Sick Day
by Eleanor Harkness-Jones
Summary: Jack gets sick. What's Ianto gonna do? And what revelations will come out of it? Set between Adam and Reset. Prequel to my story "Confessions"


**Sick Day**

**Title: **Sick Day**  
>Author: <strong>Eleanor Harkness-Jones**  
>Word Count: <strong>2,088_**  
><strong>_**A/N: **Written for Amethystbutterflies. I hope it's not _too _bad, but then again, I don't expect it to be that good either. Please read and review!

Jack opened his eyes and was met by a blinding pain in his head. He didn't remember drinking the previous night. But then again, if he had a hangover, he probably _wouldn't_ remember drinking the previous night, hence the hangover.

He rolled over to look at Ianto. The Welshman didn't look as if he'd been drinking, and if Jack had been drinking, Ianto would have been drinking; Jack would have made sure of it.

Jack took a deep breath and stood up, grabbing the ladder that led down to his bunker for support. He _really_ didn't feel good. What had he been drinking?

He somehow managed to stumble into his tiny excuse of a bathroom: it was really only a mirror, a sink and a shower miraculously crammed into a minute space. Looking at himself in the mirror, he saw that his eyes were red-rimmed so it looked like he'd been crying and his forehead was shining with sweat. Other than that, he looked fine. He could easily make excuses for both: he could say he'd had something in his eye earlier and the air-conditioning had been off in his bunker.

As well as his eyes and forehead, his limbs felt heavy, as if he'd been lifting weights on all four of them for hours. He also felt nauseous. That weird nauseous you get in the car sometimes where you know you're _not_ going to throw up, but you feel like you are anyway. Plus the world was spinning badly.

Taking another deep breath, Jack started to get dressed.

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

Ianto awoke to the sound of drawers closing. Cracking one eyelid open, he saw Jack leaning against the chest of drawers where he kept his clothes. The older man was really pale, sweating a lot and his eyes looked as if he'd been crying.

"Jack?" he asked softly.

Jack whipped round to look at him, but grabbed the chest of drawers more desperately as he did so.

Ianto jumped out of bed and put his hand on the immortal's forehead, but pulled away again almost immediately. He was _roasting_.

"Jack you're cooking." He said gently. "Get back into bed and I'll tell Owen to check you out when he gets in."

Jack was about to shake his head in protest, but thought better of it. "I'm fine, Ianto." His voice betrayed him though: it was cracking left right and centre.

"Bed. Now." Ianto demanded. Jack sighed and did as his young lover told him.

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

Owen arrived at the Hub 20 minutes later: Ianto had called him and ordered him to get his scrawny ass down to the Hub ASAP. Fearing he'd get another bullet through the shoulder if he didn't oblige, Owen had got to the Hub as quickly as the Cardiff morning rush would allow him.

"What's wrong?" the medic asked as soon as he saw Ianto pacing the Hub.

"Jack's sick." Ianto answered. If he'd said Tosh or Gwen, Owen would've slapped him. But this was _Jack Harkness_: he didn't get sick. Something was wrong.

Ianto walked towards Jack's office and Owen followed him down to Jack's little cave after grabbing a few pieces of equipment from the autopsy bay.

Owen checked Jack's temperature then scanned him with something that flashed loads of bright lights.

Owen turned to Ianto, knowing that the half-conscious Jack wasn't listening or caring.

"He's been sprayed by a Gyloptemirian gas." Owen explained. "It's incredibly strong. If it had been you or me, we'd been bed-ridden for a couple of weeks. Minimum. For our undying Captain here, I'd say two days minimum, four days tops. Someone should stay with him at all times: the Gyloptemirian gas he's been infected with makes it literally impossible to lose consciousness, so I imagine he'll want company. Can you do that mate?"

Ianto's eyebrows shot up. "Are you sure you'll all survive without coffee?"

Owen sighed. "May I ask on behalf of myself, Toshiko and Gwen that we reluctantly use the Starbucks down the street until Jack's better and you can come out of here again?"

Ianto pretended to think about Owen's request before sighing dramatically and nodding.

"Good." Owen went up the ladder then returned a minute later and handed Ianto a tube of pills. "He's to take one of these everything hour and a half: it'll ease his pain a little and hopefully speed up the healing process. They're odd pills; he needs to dry swallow them twice in a row, then with food, then with water, and then you've gotta start the whole process up again. Got that?"

Ianto nodded.

"Good. You'll also have to feed him: he _is_ capable of moving his limbs, they're just very heavy and moving them can't possibly be a nice experience."

Ianto nodded again. "Any other symptoms I should be cautious of?"

Owen looked at his scanner again. "It's best if he doesn't talk too much: his throat'll be killing him, so will his head, so he shouldn't move around too much. He probably thought he had a hangover when he woke up this morning. Try to talk to him as much as you can: he'll be grateful of the distraction. You can touch him and not get ill, but please mate, none of what you get up to in private. Have fun Nurse Jones."

Ianto rolled his eyes at Owen as he went back up to the Hub.

He then pulled a chair up so he was sitting next to Jack's head.

"Jack?" he asked tentatively.

The man in question's eyes fluttered open and focused on Ianto after a few moments.

"You need to take one of these." Ianto showed him a pill. Jack started to sit up gingerly but Ianto put a tender hand on his chest and gently pushed him back down. Jack eyed him suspiciously. "I know your limbs hurt." Ianto answered his unsaid question. He then gestured for Jack to open his mouth and placed the pill in his mouth when he did.

Jack smiled gratefully at him. He opened his mouth to speak but Ianto put his finger over the older man's lips.

"I _know_ you heard what Owen said, so don't speak. For once, listen to him. Please."

Jack smiled and nodded ever so slightly. Then, being Jack, he kissed Ianto's finger. The Welshman rolled his eyes at his lover, but he was smiling. He then traced a comforting circle on his lover's cheek and took satisfaction in Jack's pleased moan.

Then, much to Ianto's surprise, Jack reached out and pulled Ianto into the bed. Jack noticed Ianto's raised eyebrow and smiled before croaking out "You want me to listen to Owen? He said you can't catch what's wrong with me, and you've gotta keep me company, so you're staying there. Plus you haven't gotten dressed."

It broke Ianto's heart a little to hear Jack's smooth, charming voice resemble that of a frog.

He looked down at himself and blushed. Jack was right: he was still in his boxers. Owen was _never_ going to let him hear the end of this.

He was brought out of his musings by Jack suddenly snuggling into his side. Was snuggling the right word? He couldn't think of another word, though if he ever told Jack he'd 'snuggled', Jack would deny it in a flash. That was a fact.

It wasn't until two days later that either of them spoke. They just lied there, perfectly content with each other. Every hour and a half though, Ianto would feed Jack a pill and sometimes he'd have to get up to get some food or water. He'd put a T-Shirt and some tracksuit bottoms on so he could go to the kitchenette decent. The others always asked how Jack was, and all Ianto could really say was "He's going to be fine."

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

After two days, Jack looked up at Ianto and said, in a voice that was no longer croaky, but definitely slightly strained "I thought you were supposed to talk."

Ianto laughed. "So did I. I don't know what to say."

Jack thought about it for a moment before finally deciding on "Tell me about your childhood."

Ianto tensed. He didn't like talking about his childhood, and for that reason he never did. Not that he'd ever tell Jack that. Instead he simply shrugged and said "Not much to tell really. I lived with my mum, dad and sister until my parents split up and then it was just my mum my sister and me."

Jack was determined to get him to talk though. "When did your parents split up?"

"When I was 4."

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Pretty young."

"Things weren't great between them for a while. So I'm told at least: I was a bit of a surprise. My sister's 8 years older than me."

"That's quite an age difference."

Ianto just nodded. He could enunciate on that quite a bit, but really didn't want to.

Jack seemed to sense this and caressed Ianto's cheek. "Whenever you want to talk, I'll be here."

Ianto smiled at him and kissed him softly before checking his watch. Slipping back into silence, he handed Jack a pill which the man dry swallowed: he'd had a glass of water with his last one, so this one obviously had to be dry-swallowed.

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

A few days later, Jack gently prised himself out of Ianto's embrace. The Welshman knew Owen had said Jack should be up and about by now, so decided to let Jack try out his legs.

Jack stood perfectly: all traces he was every ill were completely gone. He grinned at Ianto then threw him the spare suit he kept down there.

The two of them emerged, fully clothed, a few minutes later.

Gwen and Tosh immediately hugged Jack and jokingly welcomed him back to the land of the living.

Owen dragged him down to the autopsy bay to run a few tests. As they did this, Ianto handed out coffee, much to the relief of everyone.

When he put the mugs away, Gwen came up to him.

"Have fun playing nurse maid to Jack?" she joked, startling the young man.

Ianto shrugged once he'd gotten over the sensation of being made jump "It wasn't too bad."

Gwen laughed. Then she noticed the dark circles under Ianto's eyes, standing out starkly against his pale skin. "Ianto," she said cautiously "when was the last time you slept?"

Ianto was taken aback by the question, but was even more taken aback by the fact that he couldn't answer it. Eventually he mumbled "Not sure."

Gwen sighed and pulled him into the light. Ianto's eyes were tired and masked like a racoon's by the dark shadows from lack of sleep. He also had a small beard growing on his chin: she guessed he hadn't been near a razor while looking after Jack. He was also far too thin: his suit was _hanging_ off him.

"Oh Ianto." She murmured. The young Welshman was always so busy looking after everyone else he never looked after himself.

"What is it?"Jack asked from the doorway. How long had he been there?

Gwen gestured to Ianto. "Look at him! He doesn't remember the last time he slept; he clearly hasn't been shaving or eating, though the eating is more of a crisis!"

Jack looked at Ianto. Properly looked at him. Gwen was right, he looked pretty bad.

Jack strode over to him, took his hand, and, without a word grabbed both of their coats and pulled him out of the Hub, yelling an excuse about taking Ianto home to the others.

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

Once they were in Ianto's flat, Jack gave him a once over. Ianto had clearly given up his usual 'Everything's fine' façade once he'd realised Jack wasn't buying it, and he looked even worse than before. It scared Jack. Badly.

Jack sighed. "You need to take better care of yourself, Ianto."

The younger man simply looked at his feet.

Jack led him into the bedroom and carefully undressed him, leaving him in just his boxers. He then peeled back the covers of the bed and Ianto crawled in. Jack followed not long after.

Holding the Welshman to his chest, Jack whispered into his ear "_Why _don't you take better care of yourself Ianto?"

Ianto tensed, just like he had when Jack had asked him to tell him about his childhood.

"Never mind." He whispered. "Tell me some other time. I'll be here. For now, just go to sleep."

Ianto complied.

_A/N: Wow, that went in a _totally _different direction than I expected. And now I have the stupid idea for a sequel. Opinions?_


End file.
